


Chomping at the Bit

by khal_blaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Animal Play, Kink Exploration, Leather, M/M, Pony Play, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khal_blaine/pseuds/khal_blaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine and Kurt explore pony play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chomping at the Bit

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was completely caused by that damn tail on [this Blaine costume](http://38.media.tumblr.com/0e05f4310df3bd6e01f3cb72a791a555/tumblr_n8ivqpmOh51r4gxc3o1_1280.png) and [itallstartedwithharry](http://www.itallstartedwithharry.tumblr.com) because she made my mind start wandering with the tag: _#liTEARLLY WHY DID NO ONE WRITE PONY PLAY PORN FOR THIS OKAY_.
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://khal-blaine.tumblr.com/post/91521423711/chomping-at-the-bit) on my Tumblr.

The muted creak of leather rubbing on leather is the only sound in the room while Kurt makes his rounds about the man in front of him. They’ve explored a few dozen kinks over the years, each finding their favorites, but none of them are as technically complicated as preparing Blaine to step into his equine role (except perhaps some of Kurt’s more intricate bondage creations). It takes a fair amount of time to situate every strap and buckle, and by virtue of being Kurt Hummel, dedicated to perfecting Blaine’s appearance for any occasion, the process is even longer.

Down the span of his torso, Blaine is bound in a secure harness. Three heavy straps encircle the top of his chest, his midsection, and just above his hips, nearly flush with the waistband of the dark briefs he’s wearing. It takes several long minutes just to get that single piece in place. Blaine gives his head a little shake and huffs through his nose, playing impatient. Kurt presses a hand to his chest.

“ _Easy_ ,” he coos. Blaine imagines his ears perking at the sound of his voice, swiveling on the top of his head. He turns to nose against Kurt’s face, exhaling again with his approximation of an affectionate nicker. Kurt chuckles and strokes his cheek. “Good boy.”

The tail is fastened on next, buckled to the rear of the harness. Blaine gives his hips an experimental sway to feel the bristles brush the back of his thighs, unable to hide a very human sigh at the tactile stimulation. Kurt smiles to himself. Watching (and hearing) Blaine’s arousal grow by degrees is perhaps the most rewarding thing about this form of roleplay. Blaine has expressed growing interest in adopting a tail plug in place of the one he has now, but Kurt can count the number of times they’ve done this activity on his hands. This is only number eight. For all intents and purposes, Blaine is still in training—still gaining endurance, finding inner balance, and learning to lose his human inhibitions. Maybe someday he would be ready for something more advanced.

Blaine’s remaining tack is fastened on, smooth black leather tracing over his head and face. Kurt pets a lightly-stubbled chin to get Blaine to drop his jaw. He accepts the cool rubber bit without a fuss, biting down and tossing his head to rattle the bridle, impatient again as he knows they’re getting close to completion.

“Shh.” Kurt calms him, stroking along Blaine’s legs while he kneels down to grab the boots resting nearby. The heelless footwear comes to a hooved point at the base. They give the wearer a striking appearance, but Kurt knows they’re hard on a pony’s feet, especially one so new as Blaine. Blaine is still eager to wear them, though. He lifts his leg and lets Kurt guide him, stepping down into the first shoe. He has to brace himself on the edge of the couch to get the second one on, but he only wobbles a little when he straightens up, and Kurt praises him with a soft murmur, carding his fingers through Blaine’s loose curls.

“Beautiful,” Kurt tells him truthfully, “You’re beautiful.” Blaine holds his head up, feeling proud and powerful. While Kurt gathers up the reins, draped loose down the pony’s back, he can see Blaine’s breathing quicken. “Ready, gorgeous?” Blaine musters his best whinny to the surface, muffled past the bit, and Kurt nods, clucking his tongue to urge him forward.

The first few steps are shaky while Blaine finds his footing and his pace. Kurt encourages him, “There you go. Good boy,” and within a minute, Blaine’s hooves hit the floor at a rhythmic walk. His hands are folded behind his back while he moves, concentration and effort visible in his taut muscles, but Blaine isn’t the only one with hard work to do. It’s up to Kurt to guide him. The reins can’t be too tight; he must keep them even on a straight line path or risk sending Blaine the wrong message and sending him into an early turn.

On their trek, the only terrain they cross is the interchanging carpet and hardwood of their apartment. Though the layout of furniture hardly makes for a challenging course, Kurt always does his hardest to keep Blaine on his toes, never guiding him on the same path twice in a row. The last thing he wants is a pony who simply roams in circles like a kiddie ride at the fair. It’s not befitting of Blaine’s elegant fantasy, nor does it provide the proper control to Kurt, holding the reins in his hands while his lover waits for the next direction.

Today’s session is brief. A mere fifteen minutes is all Blaine can take before he comes to a sudden stop and tosses his head with a low grunt, the nonverbal safeword that means his ankles can’t take the strain. Kurt drops the reins where he stands and moves in close to wrap an arm around Blaine’s back. Only once they’re back to the couch and Blaine’s safely supported by his hands does Kurt proceed to remove the boots. Taking off the gear is a quicker process than putting it on, and Blaine is stripped down to his briefs in a matter of minutes.

Kurt kisses his temple and pulls Blaine down onto the couch with him, grabbing the waiting water bottle to moisten Blaine’s mouth and quench his thirst. “Wonderful job, honey,” he says proudly, “Do you feel okay? Your ankles alright?”

Blaine nods once, eyes glassy and dark. He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead. Kurt can see the telltale bulge in his underwear, and he smiles. If there’s one thing he admires above all else about their sex life, it’s how much Blaine embraces his own desires and seems to live for the erotic act of transformation. It’s an incredible thing to behold while he comes back to himself. Kurt waits patiently, ready to press in close and pull off those thin briefs as soon as Blaine says the word.


End file.
